


Slick

by Rhube



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Modification, Dom/sub, Explicit discussions of consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Lubrication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhube/pseuds/Rhube
Summary: Anders and Fenris are in a secret relationship. It's all fucking, no feelings, or so they think. For all that, they have negotiated likes and dislikes and one thing that is off the table for Fenris is his arse. No touching, no fucking, no going anywhere near.Anders respects this, but one day, he accidentally discovers Fenris's secret: in addition to his markings, Danarius modified Fenris in other ways. Specifically, he used blood magic to make Fenris's arse self-lubricating. Fenris is ashamed of what's been done to him and doesn't want Anders to know - what will happen when Anders finds out?Note: fic contains mentions of past sexual abuse and body modification, but I haven't marked it non-con as only consensual acts happen in the fic itself.
Relationships: Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Kinkmeme prompt](https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/91059.html?thread=366415539#cmt366415539): Even though Fenris REALLY likes bottoming, he refuses to let his partner go anywhere near his ass because unbeknownst to them, Danarius has made other changes to Fenris' body than his lyrium markings. Namely, he has given him a self-lubricating anus. 
> 
> Every time Fenris gets aroused, he tries to hide the fact that he is getting wet because he's ashamed of what's been done to his anatomy and the implications thereof.
> 
> Until one day, Fenris' partner does something to him that has him become a needy, dripping mess, unable to hide his unusual ability any more.  
> The partner is torn between being horrified (by Danarius' actions, not Fenris' body) and intrigued, but ultimately accepting, and Fenris decides that maybe it's time to embrace his ability and make the best out of his situation.

Fenris did not like to be touched on the arse. Which was a crying shame, as it was a beautiful arse. Round and firm and muscular. Anders loved to watch it, given a chance. Which wasn't often, what with his armour and gigantic sword getting in the way. But for all that Anders yearned to run his fingers over those firm, round curves, looking was all he had.  
  
Fenris had made it clear that the whole area behind his hips was a no go zone.  
  
It meant that Fenris tended to take control in their brief, clandestine encounters. Not that Anders couldn't be a bossy bottom when he liked, but sex was clearly a much more sensitive area for Fenris than it was for him, and Anders couldn't deny that Fenris dominating the fuck out of him was a definite turn on.  
  
Today, Anders had made his way to Fenris's decrepit mansion after the weekly clinic he had with the workers at the Rose. He'd rapped on the door and announced himself loudly before letting himself in - knowing (and excited by the thought) that Fenris would treat him as an intruder anyway.  
  
He didn't see where Fenris came from before the elf charged out of the shadowed darkness and forced him back - the back of his legs colliding with a table in a way that would surely bruise. Bright lines of lyrium flickered and then stilled, suggesting Fenris had phased out of reality for the sole purpose of surprising him.  
  
His heart pounded in his chest and, in spite of himself, Justice's interest rose, hoping that lyrium flash could be called back.  
  
"You came alone?" Fenris asked. His fist was in Anders' hair, pulling, arching him further back over the table.  
  
"Of course," he replied, relishing the discomfort.  
  
"Hardly 'of course' - most times when you visit here, you come with Hawke."  
  
Anders gripped the edge of the table for leverage and pressed his hips forward so that Fenris could feel his hardening cock pressed against his stomach. Here in his house, Fenris was wearing only tight leggings and a loose shirt, so there was no armour to separate them.  
  
"Not when I come to you like this," Anders said breathlessly, as his cock pressed against Fenris's taut abs.  
  
Fenris made a noise - frustration? annoyance? desire? Anders couldn't tell - then released him. "Get in there where I can see you," he said, gesturing to the doorway that led to the great hall, where gaps in the ceiling let in shafts of light.  
  
Anders grinned and obeyed. Fenris might like to affect disdain and irritation, but if he hadn't wanted to play he'd have wasted no time kicking Anders out.  
  
Once inside the hall, Anders turned round and walked backward towards the stairs. He always preferred to get Fenris upstairs when they were fucking here - there were fewer dead bodies. "Let's use your bed this time," he began, but Fenris cut him off.  
  
"No, here."  
  
Deciding to test his luck, Anders turned and dashed up the stairs. "Make me!" he called, making himself run despite the stiffness between his legs, knowing Fenris would be on him in seconds.  
  
And he was, pushing Anders against the banister, which creaked a little with the impact.  
  
"Uh, maybe not the best place?" Anders said, earning him a glare from Fenris that was less sexually charged than the others.  
  
"Fine," Fenris huffed. "Get upstairs, then." He released Anders from his grip and gestured.  
  
"Didn't mean to ruin the mood," Anders said, and winced because he sounded almost as sulky as Fenris.  
  
It was delicate, this thing between them. They rarely spoke about what they were doing. It was hot and heavy and passionate, though when either drew a hard line it was respected. But when confronted with practicalities the illusion evaporated and they'd come perilously close to having to acknowledge that there was something between them.  
  
"When I get there, I expect you on your knees," Fenris added, thereby establishing the natural order of things and avoiding further discussion.  
  
"Yes, ser!" Anders replied, and hurried on ahead to obey.  
  
He divested himself of his coat and knelt by Fenris's unmade bed, hoping he could persuade Fenris to fall back onto it at some point. Not that he expected Fenris to let Anders fuck him, but really any kind of sex in a proper bed would be something of a luxury compared to Anders' cramped bunk at the clinic.  
  
When Fenris entered the room his face was impassive, but he removed his shirt in one swift motion and began unlacing his leggings in swift, business-like jerks that spoke of his control. His dominance.  
  
Anders freed his own cock from his trousers and rubbed along his length as he watched Fenris.  
  
He was so lean, his muscles showing distinctly, moving under his skin with every motion. The lines of lyrium Fenris hated so much gleamed in complement to his compact grace.  
  
"Stop playing with yourself, mage," Fenris said, the sternness in his rich voice only stoking Anders' excitement. "You exist for my pleasure."  
  
"Of course," Anders said as he obeyed, dropping his hands to his side and looking down in submission. Surrendering himself to Fenris's control only made him grow harder, his cock now a stiff and aching want that bobbed in anticipation as Fenris's steps approached.  
  
Long, lyrium-lined fingers traced the edge of his chin and pulled him to look up. Fenris stood in front of him now, his semi-hard cock before Anders' face.  
  
"So pleasure me," Fenris whispered.  
  
And Anders obeyed.  
  
He took Fenris's hips in his hands to steady them both - careful not to let his fingers venture too far round to the back, towards Fenris's forbidden, perfect buttocks. Then he washed his tongue over the sensitive head of Fenris's cock, and was gratified to hear his gasp.  
  
It was a beautiful cock. The more so for the fine, elegant tracery of lyrium that ran along it, which Fenris probably hated, too. Nevertheless, practice had taught Anders that those lines were sensitive, and could be used to enhance both their pleasure.  
  
Justice understood nothing of the act in which they were engaged. In as much as he thought about human genitals at all, it was to observe that they were unnecessarily complex. But the lyrium he understood. And he would urge Anders to suck on those lines with growing neediness until Anders finally gave in.  
  
So, in a way, this first part of fellatio was about edging both his partners until they couldn't take it anymore.  
  
He sucked first on just the head of Fenris's cock, which was mercifully unlined, earning him a precious whimper from the usually stoic elf. Then he released him and ran his tongue down the underside of Fenris's now hard member - all the way to the base, just running lightly along the thin line of lyrium that tingled with promise.  
  
There he buried his nose in Fenris's marvellously thick, black pubes, inhaling the musky scent of him.  
  
Fenris was always meticulously clean - except after battle - but he still had a strong, masculine smell that Anders revelled in.  
  
He pressed his lips against Fenris's balls and cupped them to him, listening to Fenris's hitched breathing to hear the thrill from his attentions that Fenris rarely voiced.  
  
He pulled back along Fenris's cock, tonguing the thick vein underneath and the lyrium both, and he continued to roll Fenris's balls gently in his hand.  
  
This time he wrapped his lips just a little bit further down Fenris's cock before he sucked, his lips closing over the edge beneath his head. He heard Fenris's hiss of appreciation, and withdrew again, earning him a grunt of frustration.  
  
Anders grinned. They had done this before - enough for Anders to know what Fenris liked, and that the frustration was a part of it. Fenris wanted to be in control, but Anders had realised early on that the elf didn't know what it was he wanted out of sex. That he was unused to being able to ask, and so didn't really know what to ask for. As a result, though the foreplay was often rough, the sex itself was slow and careful, and Fenris would allow Anders to take the lead. It was their way of finding a balance, and it turned out that denied pleasure (that was eventually gratified) was a firm favourite with Fenris when it came to getting his dick sucked.  
  
Especially as Fenris would always be the one to decide when he had been teased enough.  
  
So Anders progressed by stages, carefully licking and sucking and stroking with his hands, taking more and more of Fenris into himself - teasing them both.  
  
Part of the balance lay in the fact that the more he sucked on Fenris's cock, the more lyrium he played against his tongue, the more both Anders and Justice began to lose themselves in the high of the lyrium song.  
  
He ached to start stroking himself again, but resisted the temptation, drawing more and more on the pleasure to be had in Fenris's cock.  
  
He was starting to feel positively giddy when Fenris decided he had finally had enough and took control, hands that had rested loosely in Anders' hair gripping more firmly, and beginning to fuck his face in earnest.  
  
Not that he ever hurt Anders when it came to this. There was a roughness to it, but like everything Fenris did, it was deliberate, and never careless. If Anders had learnt what suited Fenris, Fenris had learnt what Anders needed in return - how far was too far, when fun became choking and how to avoid that.  
  
His thrusting became hurried and desperate, chasing his release, but always in line with what was comfortable to both, and when the tension built up towards final release, he withdrew, spurting into the air and onto his chest, but not down his throat.  
  
Weak at the knees, Fenris stumbled to the bed and collapsed back upon it, as Anders had hoped.  
  
He was still rock hard himself, and now quite, quite high, but that was alright. Fenris had warned him of the effects of his lyrium-lined cock on mages and it was something Anders had agreed to and found he enjoyed. When Fenris was recovered enough from his own orgasm, he'd take care of a willing Anders - sometimes with his mouth, but usually with his hand.  
  
Anders had wondered sometimes if Fenris was reluctant to show his skill in that department, and the lyrium high made him feel less exposed. Not that Fenris had any qualms about fucking Anders skillfully up the arse, but Anders suspected that wasn't something he'd done much with Danarius.  
  
He pulled himself up onto the bed and listened to Fenris's satisfied panting, pleased to know he'd been successful once again.  
  
He put his hand on a muscular thigh, slick with sweat, and pulled himself closer, lazily tracing fingers up the sensitive flesh on the inside of Fenris's leg, up towards his cock.  
  
Fenris made a delightful, high-pitched noise in response, and Anders grinned.  
  
He bent his head down towards Fenris's cock just to smell him again. The scent was saltier, this time, mixed sweat and cum.  
  
Anders smiled and sat up, withdrawing his hand, only then noticing that it was slick with something a little more than sweat.  
  
At first, he thought it must be cum, but the texture wasn't quite right, and as he glanced down again between Fenris's thighs, he saw the inside of both was coated in a milky-looking sheen that couldn't simply be cum. Curious and unthinking in the lyrium haze, Anders reached down between Fenris's thighs again.  
  
This time, they snapped shut, and Fenris pushed him away.  
  
"What are you doing?" Fenris demanded.  
  
"Nothing," said Anders. "I was just curious. You're wet. But it wasn't like..." He frowned. What was it like? It felt familiar, but...  
  
Fenris stood and stepped away from him, his manner so abruptly changed that Anders wasn't quite sure what had happened.  
  
"Get out," Fenris said, bluntly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said: get out." There was real anger in Fenris's voice now, and Anders didn't understand what he'd done to prompt it. "I told you never to touch me there. You said I could set rules. That was my rule."  
  
"But I didn't!" Anders protested. "I only touched the top of your thighs, I-"  
  
Fenris started throwing clothes at him.  
  
"This is _not_ a discussion. Get dressed, and get out. This will never happen again."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An accident befalls Anders as Fenris tries to rush him out of the mansion. In the aftermath, Fenris and Anders talk.

Hurt and confused, Anders pulled his clothes to himself and stumbled out of Fenris's bedroom.

He was unsteady on his feet from the lyrium and would have liked to get dressed before leaving, but it was clear that Fenris wanted him out and away from his bed as quickly as possible. Perhaps he could dress in the entrance hall. Surely Fenris wouldn't throw him out on the street naked.

Or perhaps he would.

"I said _out_ ," Fenris said, giving him a small push.

Anders stumbled forward, but kept his feet. "Right, yes, I'm going," he murmured.

He would have liked a hand to spare for the banister, but his arms were full of a hastily collected jumble of clothes and shoes. Gingerly, he began his descent, trying to peer around his clothes to see where to put his feet.

It was not a successful strategy. Already light-headed, when Anders looked down a wave if dizziness washed over him, and he lost his balance. His next step slipped on the edge of the stair and his whole body pitched forward. His leg twisted under him and he went sprawling, his things flying from his arms and his body connecting painfully again and again with the hard wooden steps until he landed in a painful heap at the bottom.

***

Fenris stared in horror as Anders lost his footing and fell down the staircase.

He froze in shock. He hadn't wanted to hurt Anders, only for him to be gone.

Then Anders groaned in pain and it was like his heart started beating again. If Anders was hurting, then he was alive, and Fenris could help him.

He ran down the stairs, two at a time, and took the mage by the arm to help him sit up.

"Anders," he said, "Are you OK?"

"No?" Anders said, a note of disbelief in his voice. "I don't understand what's going on, and I just fell down the stairs, I..." He pulled his arm out of Fenris's grasp and brushed at reddened eyes. "Fenris, I'm high as fuck, and I don't know what I did, but I'm _sorry_."

Guilt sank like a heavy weight inside Fenris. Anders was right. He could feel Anders' fingers on the inside of his thigh as though it were happening again now, but the mage hadn't violated their rules. He'd just discovered Fenris's secret anyway. He'd been so careless and weak - allowing the juices of his altered anus to leak down his thighs where Anders might see them - or feel them.

And then he had told Anders to leave knowing full well he was not in a condition to take care of himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice a breathy whisper. "I am so sorry, mage. I panicked. I didn't think." His eyes darted around Anders' naked flesh, taking in the angry red welts that would surely be painful bruises, even if nothing were broken. "Do you... you must need to heal yourself. I - I'll pick up your things."

Anders rolled his eyes in askance. "I can't heal myself right now - I can't do any magic! I'm practically buzzing with mana and I can't... focus like this. I could blow the roof off!"

"Oh." His eyes danced around Anders' body again, wondering how badly he was hurt. How badly Fenris had allowed him to be hurt when he was in such a vulnerable state. "What can I do? I... I might have a healing potion, in the kitchen?" He got up to move away.

"No, just..." Anders sighed. "I'll be fine; I just need to rest for a bit. To clear my head." He rubbed a hand over his face, as though trying to wake himself up, then he looked back at Fenris again. "What happened, Fenris? Please - tell me. I didn't think I touched your... you know. If I did, I'm truly sorry. Maybe we... maybe we shouldn't play with the lyrium thing after all. If it means I don't know what I'm doing."

Fenris shook his head. As much as he'd wanted to blame Anders, he knew that wasn't it. "It was my fault. I promised to take care of you afterwards and I didn't." He sank down to sit at the other side of the stairs.

"OK," said Anders, "But something set you off. What was it? If I know, I can make sure it doesn't happen again. It - it's OK for you to ask me to stop, or even ask me to leave, if you're uncomfortable. I'd just rather know what it is in advance, and if possible for you to not ask me to leave when I'm high as a kite." He gave Fenris a lopsided smile that tried and failed to lighten the mood.

Fenris didn't want to talk about this. Far more than not wanting Anders to touch his arse, he didn't want to tell Anders _why_. But he owed the mage an explanation. Worse - much as he hated to admit it - Fenris owed his _lover_ an explanation for why he'd put him in danger.

He swallowed. "I thought you realised," he said. "You felt it. On my legs."

Anders frowned. "I don't..." he rubbed his hands over his face again and blinked a few times. "Whatever it was, I don't think I did."

Fenris pulled a face. It would have been easier if Anders had realised. He didn't want to explain. "The... wetness," he said. "I thought you'd recognised what it was."

The mage's frown deepened. "I do remember something wet, but... Fenris, I... I had no idea what that was. I was going to ask you about it, that's all."

Fenris hunched his head between his shoulders. "Yes," he said. "That's what I was afraid of."

The silence stretched between them, and Fenris didn't dare look up to see what was in Anders' face. But Anders surprised.

"You don't have to tell me," he said. "Not if you don't want to."

Fenris glanced at him. He looked tired, but sincere.

"I know I asked but... I'm not thinking too clearly right now," he said. "If you just want to set some new rules, we can do that too. I won't reach between your legs. Or I won't say anything if I feel that wetness again. We... we don't ever have to discuss it if you don't want to. But Fenris," Anders held his gaze now, "I want you to know that you can tell me, if you'd like. I'd... I'd be flattered if you trusted me with that."

The strange sincerity and openness in Anders' look was a little too much to bear. He looked away.

Anders didn't seem disgusted. Fenris would have thought anyone discovering the strange things that had been done to him would be repulsed. It wasn't natural.

A part of him wondered if was the magic. If Anders shared the same sick fascination for bending someone else's body to one's own convenience. Perhaps this was something other mages did, and Anders liked it.

But that wasn't what he had seen in Anders' face. And when Anders had said he had no idea what the substance was, Fenris believed him. The mage seemed puzzled, more than anything.

In all their trysts - from the very beginning - Fenris had kept expecting to run up against a lascivious desire to control and exploit. That central core of cruelty that he had seen in all magisters, and believed to be at the heart of all mages. He kept pushing Anders - dominating him, taking pleasure in him, waiting for the moment when the mage would push back and seize control. But it never came. Anders seemed to enjoy it when Fenris took charge. When he pushed back it wasn't to dominate in return, but to set firm rules: words to be used when the play got too much, things that Anders didn't want to be called - even insisting that Fenris set some rules of his own.

So. Anders didn't want to exploit this. He just wanted to know. Out of concern.

Fenris took a deep breath and released it very slowly, willing the rapid beating of his heart to calmness. "You know Danarius did things to me," he said, at least.

"Your markings," Anders replied.

Fenris nodded. "That. But not only that."

He looked down at his nails. He couldn't look into Anders' face as he said this. "We have not discussed it, but you know that he... used me. For his pleasure."

A paused. He could hear Anders shifting where he sat.

"I... surmised," he admitted.

"He also," Fenris said, feeling like Anders would be able to hear his heartbeat in his voice. "He also... changed me. For his convenience. During sex." The last word came out sounding harsh. Sharp in his mouth.

Anders said nothing, waiting for him to go on.

"He... had no patience for... preparation. The, uh, oils and the like that you use when we... when you let me do that to you."

"I see." Anders said, his voice neutral.

Did he see? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Fenris knew he had to say this part now, so it was clear. So they both confronted it.

"He used blood magic to make me... to make my... entrance," he took another shaky breath. "To make me wet. Like a woman." His eyes were closed now. "Most of the time, it is not too much. I can forget it's even there. But... when we do these things..." His mouth struggled around the words.

"When you're aroused," Anders finished for him.

Fenris nodded. "Yes. It's more then. I can't control it."

Silence stretched between them for a time. Fenris wanted to know Anders' reaction, but he also couldn't make himself open his eyes to look. He didn't want to look into the eyes of another man who knew how unnatural his body was.

"I'm so sorry he did that to you," Anders said at last. "Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me with that."

Fenris grunted, but couldn't find the words to respond. He wanted to ask Anders - to know if it disgusted him, if he wouldn't want to touch him anymore. But also he didn't dare ask. He didn't want to hear that disgust in Anders' voice.

"Can I come over to you?"

It wasn't what he'd expected. He opened his eyes. Anders didn't look disgusted.

"If you like," he said.

Anders rolled his eyes. "No, actually, this one has to be something _you_ would like. If you don't want me to touch you, I won't."

Fenris snorted. "Fine," he said, sitting up a little straighter. "You may come over here, mage."

Anders got stiffly to his feet and walked over, before sitting again beside Fenris.

"And can I touch you?" Anders asked, with that same peculiar earnestness. "Nothing funny, you know, just... for comfort."

Fenris nodded. "I do not understand you, mage," he said. "But yes, you may."

A small smile said that Anders knew Fenris didn't understand him, and it was a source of endless amusement, but there was no meanness in it. He took Fenris gently into his arms, and after a moment, Fenris relaxed into his embrace.

"You haven't asked," Anders said, his voice close to Fenris's ear. "But I want you to know: it doesn't bother me. It bothers me that he did that to you. It bothers me that he hurt you. But it doesn't bother me that you're like that. I like... all kinds of bodies, really. They didn't tell us half what they should have in the Circle - about what to expect from other people. Even as a healer, it was all very clinical. Nothing about which parts make you happy, or what they do when they get excited. They didn't want us getting excited, you see. It was meant to stop us knowing what to do, but for me it just made it more of an adventure. It didn't really matter what I found - I enjoyed the exploration."

He kissed the top of Fenris's head, through his hair.

"I say this not to try to convince you to let me explore you. More like... I've seen a wondrous assortment of downstairs arrangements, and even when no one's interfered with the natural set-up, people are more varied than you'd think. All of it's beautiful. So... there's nothing to be embarrassed about, with me. And..." he cleared his throat, "If you did want to play back there some time, I'd be up for it. But also if you don't... I was happy with what we were doing before. Nothing needs to change at all - unless you want it to."

When he finished speaking, Anders just held Fenris in his arms. And somehow it was comfortable. Anders was giving him time. So he took it. He let himself relax a little more into Anders' arms, and listened to the thump of the mage's heart in his chest.

What did he want?

"What if I would like it to change?" he asked.

Anders leaned back and looked down at him. He smiled. "Then I suggest," he said. "That we take it slowly. I don't think we should do anything else today. But... another day, I could come here. Some time when you're expecting me. And maybe we could do things a little differently. Not as rough. We'd take our time, and anything we did, you could stop at any point."

Fenris straightened and thought about what Anders was offering. It was another kind of vulnerability. It meant admitting that this was more than just sex. It meant letting Anders take care of him. Trusting Anders to take care of him.

"Alright," he said. "Tomorrow."

Anders laughed - a light, teasing chuckle. "Eager, aren't we? How about you take a day to rest and decompress about all this?"

Fenris gave a one-shouldered shrug. "If you think it's necessary."

Anders raised his eyebrows, "Slowly, remember?"

"Fine."

The mage kissed him on his forehead and smiled. "Good. Now," he said. "Why don't you put some clothes on and make me a cup of tea while I see where my under things went?"

"You're getting very bossy, mage," Fenris remarked, but he hauled himself to his feet, nonetheless.

"Mmm," said Anders. "But you can always tell me no."


End file.
